In my defense I had just moved back into my grandparent’s house, I’d lost my dream job, and a guy on Tinder had stood me up. It was like life had suddenly stamped ‘LOSER’ on my forehead.

So when the guy behind the bar started giving me THE look…you know, the one that promised I’d be screaming his name into the wee hours of the morning? When that guy also has the perfect amount of scruff on his chiseled chin, biceps bulging out of his t-shirt, and a cocky grin you knew he’d earned in the sack…when he gives you that look, you don’t bother to figure out what your six degrees of separation are. You jump on that horse and ride it!

Pun fully and completely intended. And accurate by the way.

I fully admit to feeling sorry for myself and acting impulsively, but by the time I’d figured out WHO the bartender was, I was already falling for him.

An hour and a half later and hot stuff has come around the bar to take the seat beside me and join me on my mission to get shit-faced. I have to admit, I’m enjoying his company, but it doesn’t exactly make him Employee of the Year given the fact that he’s supposed to be working.

“Won’t your boss be mad that you’re drinking on the job?” I ask.

That damn dimple makes another appearance again before he answers. “Nah, he’s cool. It’s dead in here tonight. If anyone comes in, I’ll be sure they get what they need.” His gaze rakes up and down my small frame, and I get the distinct impression that he’s picturing me naked.

Jeez, I hope my nakedness looks amazing in his brain. Given the half-crooked smile on his face, I think it must. I wonder if his imagination is good enough to picture that dimple in my ass that doesn’t ever seem to want to disappear, regardless of how much I weigh.

As if he’s tempted fate with his words, the bell over the door dings and an older gentleman walks in and seats himself at one of the bar tables across the room.

“Be right back.” Cole pats my hand before he rises from his seat.

It was an innocent gesture, but it makes me think dirty things. The heat from his hand seeps up my arm like a bee sting and settles somewhere in my chest.

I watch him walk away and can’t help but notice the way his ass perfectly fills out his jeans. It bunches and flexes as his long strides take him across the bar. Maybe Lennon is right and it has been too long since I’ve been with a man.

It’s then that I realize that Tinder dude still hasn’t shown up. The bar isn’t busy, probably since it’s the middle of the week, and I’ve been chatting—okay, flirting—with Cole and hadn’t realized how much time had passed. I grab my phone from my purse and open the app to see that I have a new message. Pussylickr69: Not coming. Sorry found someone else who wasn’t so much werk. Fury causes my face to heat as I type out a quick reply that might be, and by that I mean most definitely is, alcohol-fueled. Whiteebanter: Yeah, I can see how thirty minutes of conversation is too much foreplay for you. Fuck you and your lack of knowledge of the English language. You spell work with an ‘o,’ dipshit.There. That’ll show him. With a frown, I drop my phone back into my purse.

“Everything okay?” Cole asks as he takes the seat beside me again.

I sigh. “Yeah, I just found out that Pussylicker isn’t coming anymore.”

Cole nearly spits out the sip of drink he’s just taken and has a coughing fit before he fully recovers. “Excuse me?”

“I was waiting for a guy from Tinder to show up, but he just ditched me because apparently it was too much work to have a drink with me before taking me back to his place to bang me.” I spin my glass in place on the bar top.

“You’re trolling for guys on Tinder?” Cole howls with laughter so hard he has to hold his stomach. I love the way the laugh looks on his face—the way it crinkles his eyes at the corners and how it showcases his perfect teeth. But all that aside, it’s irritating.

“It’s not that funny.” This guy might be hot, but right now he’s working my nerves.

“Actually, it is. Why the hell would a woman like you resort to finding someone to fuck on a dating site?”

The way the word ‘fuck’ rolls off his tongue has all my womanly parts contracting and wishing that it was an invitation to do just that. But never mind that, because I’m annoyed at him, I just barely remember through my drunken haze.

“What do you mean a woman like me?” I try to do air quotes around the last part, but my balance isn’t what it was three hours ago, and I almost topple off my stool, so I quickly grab on to the bar in front of me.

“Beautiful. Intelligent. Likable. Smartass.” He ticks each word off on one hand while he speaks and he says it like he means it. I hold his stare for a minute before realization dawns.

“Hey! I’m a B.I.L.F. You know, like a M.I.L.F. Only different.” I’m so impressed that I thought of that given my current state.

Cole chuckles with an amused gleam in his eyes. “Only better,” he says.

Our gazes lock for a beat and it’s at that moment I know that if I offer myself up to this guy, he’ll be more than willing to send me on the walk of shame tomorrow morning. Heat rushes into my cheeks and I look away. As much bravado as I had earlier about my Tinder escapade, I’m not sure I can do this. Be this girl so full of confidence that she bangs a stranger with no qualms about it.

My elation has crash-landed on the ground as I realize I’m not able to pull the trigger and make an advance toward him. I also know I’ll probably regret it forever because this man is so far beyond good-looking that it’s a speck in the rear-view mirror. Not to mention the fact that he’s sexy as hell and seems to be a decent human being. Which is more impossible to find in the Bay area than someone who doesn’t think they’re allergic to gluten.

I take a deep breath and finish the last couple of gulps of my drink and push the glass in Cole’s direction.

“Another, please.”

Cole tosses back the rest of his drink and I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat while the liquid slides down.

Damn. That is sexy.

Why is that sexy?

“I’m going to join you for another as well.” He gets up off his bar stool and before walking away he comes to stand directly behind me. “Assuming you want me to stick around?”

His breath washes across my neck and my ear and I close my eyes for a brief moment to enjoy the sensation. “I’d like that,” I say with all honesty.

“Good. I know the first guy let you down, but don’t worry… I’ve been told I lick pussy like a boss.”

And with that, he walks away while I struggle to keep my heart from pounding out of my chest.

I’m out of my league with this guy. I know it and there’s a good chance that he knows it, too.

But ask yourself this, ladies… if you were called up to the big leagues from the minors, would you say no?

Author Bio

Piper Rayne, or Piper and Rayne, whichever you prefer because we’re not one author, we’re two. Yep, you get two established authors for the price of one. You might be wondering if you know us? Maybe you’ll read our books and figure it out. Maybe you won’t. Does it really matter? We aren’t trying to stamp ourselves with a top-secret label. We wanted to write without apology. We wanted to not be pigeon holed into a specific outline. We wanted to give readers a story without them assuming how the story will flow. Everyone has their favorite authors, right? And when you pick up their books, you expect something from them. Whether it’s an alpha male, heavy angst, a happily ever after, there’s something you are absolutely certain the book will contain. Heck, we’re readers, too, we get it.

What can we tell you about ourselves? We both have kindle’s full of one-clickable books. We're both married to husbands who drive us to drink. We're both chauffeurs to our kids. Most of all, we love hot heroes and quirky heroines that make us laugh, and we hope you do, too.

Golden Beach firefighter, Lieutenant Michael Oliver, has everything he wants — a beautiful wife, a job he loves, and a future that finally looks bright after years of darkness. Until one day a surprise from his past shows up, throwing everything he’d finally recovered from back in his face.

Lena Shirakawa married the man of her dreams in an impulsive Vegas wedding. As a free-spirited and highly sought-after travel photographer, being the wife of a firefighter who wants her to settle down isn’t easy. Especially when her job takes her all over the world for months at a time.

When Lena’s deep-rooted fears take hold, the damage is done and divorce seems the only option. But Michael won't give up, even if it means risking everything to keep her.

Lena Shirakawa swayed in her spot as the unseasonably warm October sun beat down against them. She wiped the beads of sweat from her brow and waited for the models to get into position.

She heard them as they approached, filling the quiet beach with rowdy banter. Twelve drop-dead gorgeous firefighters from different stations across the Virginia coast filed into the partitioned section of sand and surf. Her heart raced at the sight of the men in uniform—chiseled, well muscled, and confident.

"Where do you want them?"

Lena snapped her mouth closed as her assistant waved a handkerchief in her face.

"I wasn't drooling," she told Hallie, aware of the indignant tone in her voice.

"It's for your forehead. You're sweating … but now that you mention it—"

"Shut it, Hal."

Hallie laughed as she gathered a reflector and started her stroll toward the group.

"Can you line them up by month? I want a few shots of all of them and then we'll go down the line, January through December."

"Any particular poses?"

Lena shook her head and snickered as her gaze fell to the table of props. A few axes, a coiled fire hose, rope, chains, and a bottle of baby oil covered the surface of the table. This was going to be fun. She counted the men as Hallie lined them up and stopped short at eleven.

"Hal? There's one missing. And where's my truck? I was told we'd have a truck and that I'd get real flames to work with."

Hallie nodded. "The truck is on the way, along with Mr. December . . . Michael Oliver." She nodded to the pile of driftwood stacked about twenty yards down the beach. "There's your fire."

Lena cocked an eyebrow and smirked. "I trained you right, didn't I?"

Hallie chuckled and continued positioning firefighters which turned out to be more difficult than it seemed. They were loud, boisterous, and Lena couldn't stop herself from snapping candid shots as they teased and flirted with her assistant.

Six of the men were from Station 31, Golden Beach's local firehouse. She knew most of them by reputation alone, and one due to a mistake she'd made a year earlier.

"Okay, fellas. Line up. Backs to the waves, if you please. Let's go ahead and get your shirts off." Hallie directed them without batting an eye and Lena just stood back and watched.

She started plotting the next few hours in her head, planning for the best poses, but lost her focus as bare chests, tattoos, and washboard abdominals came into view.

Stop it. You are a professional. Ogling is not okay.

She snatched the bottle of baby oil and tossed it at Hallie with a wink.

"Glistening," Lena instructed.

"Some days this job sucks. Today is not one of them."

As Hallie offered oil to each of the guys, Lena turned her back, organizing her thoughts and planning the shoot. The waves crashed behind them, and the sun hung low in the sky. All she needed was the damn fire truck and Mr. December.

The sound of a siren broke through the chatter. Engine 31 rolled down the beach, lights flashing, and Lena rolled her eyes.

Michael parked the truck and jumped down from the driver's seat, a wide grin on his perfect face.

"Freshly waxed just for you." Michael's deep baritone drew a layer of arousal over her body.

"Good. You're late," she snapped.

"You're welcome."

She eyed him, trying to get past the jaw-dropping good looks and focus on the reason she was here—a calendar for charity.

"Shirt off, please," she ordered. "Let's see what we've got to work with."

That had been a bad choice. He stripped off his thin, blue t-shirt and tossed it at her. It smelled of leather and something spicy. She had to force herself not to bring the fabric to her nose and inhale deeply.

"Do I get your stamp of approval?" He cocked an eyebrow and smirked at her as he flexed his chest.

She had to clear her throat before she could get her voice to cooperate, then she shrugged.

"You'll do," she threw over her shoulder as she walked away, gripping her camera tightly and trying to control the shaking of her fingers.

After a few deep, calming breaths, she got past the sparks of attraction she felt for Michael, and the shoot fell into place. At the end of the night all that remained were the embers of the bonfire and three firefighters, including Michael. They sat around the dying fire, talking and watching the waves.

"Should we leave?" Hallie asked under her breath.

Lena shrugged as she continued packing up. Donovan Miller, the newest firefighter at the station, had already taken the truck and borrowed props back to the firehouse. All that was left to do was make sure the flames were extinguished and load the table in the back of her van.

She tipped the table on its back and started collapsing the legs while Hallie carted a bag up the path to the parking lot. Struggling to gain traction in the sand, Lena lifted the long rectangle at one end and began to pull.

"Let me help you with that, princess." Michael's voice sent warm tingles down her spine.

He grabbed the other end of the table and lifted it with ease, grinning as he followed her lead and they made their way to the waiting van.

Hallie snickered and cast her a knowing glance as she passed the pair on her way back to the beach. "I'll get the boys to help me put out the fire. You don't need to hang around on my account, L."

She could practically feel his broad smile behind her and she shook her head, fighting a laugh.

The idea of a night or two tangled in the sheets with a gorgeous man sounded exactly like what she needed. Unfortunately for Michael, she wasn't willing to give him the satisfaction of adding her notch to his bedpost—again.

As he helped her load the table he brushed his fingers along the exposed skin of her shoulder. She fought off an involuntary shiver, pushing the door closed and turning to face him.

"So, are we doing this?" His tone was confident as he closed the distance between their bodies—his hips touching hers.

A wave of need crested over her. It was all she could do to wait for it to recede.

"Not tonight." She could barely manage a whisper.

His lips turned down in a playful pout but instead of backing away, he pressed closer, one hand on either side of her face.

Kim Loraine is the author of the “Golden Beach” series, including “Restoration” (2015) and “Renovation” (2015). She started writing at a young age, scribbling down song lyrics, short stories, and poems she was too afraid to share with anyone. Busy working as a music teacher in her Pacific Northwest hometown, it wasn’t until her family of four picked up everything and moved to beautiful Japan that she decided to finally take the plunge and send her characters out into the world.

The central theme in Kim’s books is self-discovery, whether that is found through taking risks, breaking down walls, or admitting mistakes. Kim likes to write characters that seem like someone you actually know, who find that life is a journey not without its challenges.

When not writing Kim spends her time with her husband, chasing around their crazy kids, exploring Japan, and binge-watching Doctor Who on Netflix.

There’s always a new beginning whispering your name. You just have to have the courage to hear it. In the space of a few short hours, Chloe’s world does a complete three-sixty. She loses her job thanks to her douchebag ex-boyfriend. Only to come home and catch her current boyfriend and best friend in a compromising position. When she thinks things couldn’t get any worse; she learns the man she calls her father may not be her actual dad thanks to her lying, cheating mother. How is Chloe supposed to forgive a parent who’s deceived her, her entire life? With her bags packed, and the hope of rediscovering the happiness she once enjoyed, she heads to a place where not even she knows is waiting for her—Canyon Bay. Can the people Chloe meets there open her eyes and heart to the someday she’s been waiting for?

Janie takes her shot, and raising it in front of her, she says, “To new beginnings.”

I raise my glass to hers and we down our shots. I then suck in a quick breath to take away the burn. It feels good.

A comfortable silence falls between us. I’m lost in my own little world, a world now housing many cracks. As I glance around, people-watching, something catches my eye.

It’s a picture on a wall. Something about this image captures me, like a lasso. It draws me in. I hop out of my seat and walk towards the framed photo.

“Where are you going?” Janie questions.

“To look at one of these pictures,” I reply.

She quickly hops up and follows. The picture is of a beach lookout. There’s an old wooden bench, and the photographer has taken the picture from behind the seat, looking out at the ocean. It’s a beautiful aqua blue colour.

It’s stunning. For some strange reason, the image sends a peacefulness through me. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Out of nowhere, a small voice calls my name. Chloe, a new beginning awaits.

I jump at the sound of Trent’s voice so close, not expecting him to be standing right beside me looking at what’s captured my eye.

With my hand clutching at my pounding chest, I reply, “Yeah, can you tell me about this photo?”

A smile spreads across his face while he ponders on the image. “This picture is one I won’t forget . . . This place was amazing. It holds a special place in my heart.” His hand rests over his own heart.

“Where is it?” I ask, hopeful. This place could be my chance for something different. Before he answers, I already know, no matter where it is, it’s where I’m going.

“It called Canyon Bay.”

Author Bio

Liz Lovelock is from bright sunny Queensland in Australia. She is the mother of three little monsters, a wife to an amazing husband and very much a lover of everything books and reading. Liz has always loved books and, from a very young age she began reading comic books and then in high school her passion grew. She was given Tomorrow When The War Began by John Marsden for an assignment but, when that was done she continued to discover new books to fall in love with. Liz always has a book she is currently enjoying and, a notebook beside her bed for in her hand bag for when inspiration hits at those crazy times. She is a stationary addict and will buy more notebooks and pens then what she needs. Her one click finger likes to go crazy as well.

Mallory Sims is late for her first day of work. After spilling her tea, she discovers she has no gas in her car. Add that her arm keeps sticking to her dress from syrup left on the console of her car, flustered feels like an understatement. Then she sees her new boss. Graham Landry is the epitome of NSFW in his custom-fit suit, black-rimmed glasses, and a look so stern her libido doesn’t stand a chance. Being flustered is just the start of her problems. Her punctuality is only the start of his. With a pink slip in hand, he’s been waiting on his new secretary to show up only to let her go. Then she rushes in with her doe eyes and rambling excuses, smelling like bacon and lavender. The termination paper falls to the side as she falls in his arms. This is a disaster in the making. Not because of his pinpoint exactness or her free spirit, but because when they’re together, the sparks that fly threaten to burn the whole place down.

We both know we aren’t just talking about a moved stapler or a mishmash of files. As that really sets in, the air around us gets heavier. Hotter. Hazardous.

“Those things always lead to dangerous situations,” he says, his eyes trained on me.

I shift in my seat, the throb between my legs growing stronger by the second. “People do it every day and survive.”

“They may survive, but don’t things get messy?”

“Only if they do it right.”

His chair flies backwards and he’s to his feet and next to me before I know what’s happening. He doesn’t ask that I stand, but he doesn’t have to. It’s implied and my body reacts accordingly to his silent command.

We stand face-to-face, our breathing ragged. Our chests heave with the anticipation, the possibility, of what might come next.

“You are, quite possibly, the most dangerous of them all,” he says, his voice rough.

“Why is that?” I breathe.

“There’s no plan for you.”

“But you’ve already penciled me in, haven’t you, Graham?” I ask, finding the courage to play this little game with him. Being strictly professional is incredibly hard, and this is way too easy.

I can flirt with the best of them in a bar or on a college campus. But here, with him, it’s a game all its own. A level I had no idea I’d ever be a contender in. Maybe I’m not, but I’m going to play the hell out of it while I’m here … even though if I keep it up, I might not be here for long.

“What do you want, Mallory?”

“I want to do all the things you ask of me and do them better than you ever expected they could be done.”

A rumble emits from his throat as his eyes darken. My knees go weak and I grab the table with my left hand to ensure I don’t fall.

He licks his lips and flips his gaze to my mouth. I think I whimper as I lift my chin, waiting to see what he does next. My entire body is on fire for this man, my heart thumping so hard I’m sure he can hear it.

He moves so my back is pressed against the table, our food long forgotten. His hands are on either side of me, caging me in. Our eyes locked together, he leans in, a slow smirk spreading across his gorgeous face.

“Excuse me, Mr. Landry. Ford is here to see you,” Raza chirps through the line.

We exhale simultaneously, a giggle escaping with mine. There’s nothing funny about this, but the energy has to come out in some way.

“Mr. Landry?” she asks again.

“I’ll be right out. Thank you, Raza.”

“Oh, you’re so welcome, sir.” The line clicks off and Graham marches across the room and punches a button. The light on top indicates he’s not to be disturbed.

I busy myself with cleaning up our lunch, and before he’s at my side again, I have everything bundled up.

“Thanks for lunch,” I say like nothing just happened.

“Mallory …” He runs his hand through his hair, leaving one lock sticking up. Knowing what that will look like if we walk out together, I reach up, hesitating for a split second, before smoothing it out.

His hair is silky against my fingers. He jumps when I touch him at first, but doesn’t back away. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing went on in here. I refuse for it to look like something did. That’s the way rumors get spread, Mr. Landry.”

“Mallory, I …”

I get a final look at his face, reach up and straighten his tie as his eyes go wide, then turn towards the door. “I’ll send Ford in.”

“Mallory!”

“Yeah?” I turn to see him over my shoulder. He’s standing by the table, his hands in his pockets looking frazzled. When he doesn’t respond, I place my hand on the knob. “I’ll have that file back to you before I leave today. Thanks again for lunch.”

USA Today Bestselling author Adriana Locke lives and breathes books. After years of slightly obsessive relationships with the flawed bad boys created by other authors, Adriana has created her own. She resides in the Midwest with her husband, sons, and two dogs. She spends a large amount of time playing with her kids, drinking coffee, and cooking. You can find her outside if the weather's nice and there's always a piece of candy in her pocket. For sneak peeks, giveaways, and more, please join Adriana's Facebook Group, Books by Adriana Locke, or her Goodreads group, All Locked Up.

For eleven years, Riley Stallings remained completely devoted to her longtime boyfriend, Brian Shepard. In the beginning, nothing could put a strain on the newly loves—not even an unplanned pregnancy or her parents disowning her for it. But as time goes on, work absorbs Brian, leaving Riley at home, lonely and empty, to handle everything on her own.

But then she meets him—a man who causes a gravitational pull and prompts the earth to disappear from under her feet. A man who makes her struggle to remember her name—her son’s new teacher.

Knowing all relationships face difficult obstacles, she turns a blind eye and blames the lure on the lack of attention and fights even harder to fix her broken relationship. And then it happens… Brian presents an inconceivable challenge, derailing Riley and forcing new beginnings for everyone. Will their love be enough to weather the storm?

“Dreaming in Reality…You dream in reality when you pick up a book and get lost in it. In my writing, I strive to take you to a place where reality and fantasy become a blurry line. Everything should be relatable. It could happen…couldn’t it?” ~ TC Matson

TC Matson loves to let her character’s voices be heard. With a head full of stories, she puts her keyboard through a beating daily. With an understanding that love isn’t always instant and full of flowers—her writing mirrors it.

She’s a romance junkie at heart and an avid reader. Add those two together and she will devour books within hours, getting lost in the world the author creates.

Matson resides in the peaceful Piedmont area of NC with her husband and three boys, where staying hopped up on caffeine is the key to her sanity. Chaos is indefinite and a sense of humor is an absolute must.

Gianna LeBron grew up in poverty. Destined to change her circumstances and her zip code, she rises up from the inner-city streets with an Ivy League education and affluent husband. A few short years later, she’s alone with three children, destitute and desperate.

Finding herself in the same hell she’d fought so hard to escape, and determined to find a solution, she compromises who she is. Selling her soul for the almighty dollar, she does what she has to do in order to provide for her children.

Caught between a secret love and her toddler’s unending need for medical care, Gianna’s forced to decide how far she’ll go to heal her daughter and save the man she loves.

Stephie Walls is a literary whore - she loves words in all forms and will read anything put in front of her. She has an affinity for British Literature and Romance novels and an overall love of writing. She currently has six novels out, four short stories, and two collections; all provocatively written to elicit your imagination and spice up your world.

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I received an arc in exchange for an honest review
Just a warning to people that if you don't like dark reads then this isn't the book for you, as there are scenes of violence and taboo subjects.
This book is not your typical Romeo and...

It was nice to have Bash's story in print.
I finally got to understand why he did what he did. The pressures that he was under and that he felt that he had only one way out of it.
It's nice to see a book that deals with real life issue...

This deserves 4.5 stars
This was a dark dark read, only read this if you like dark reads.
Pepper doesn't disappoint with this book, OMG Pepper but where do you get you ideas from this was fantastic.
This is a slightly different plot b...

**** I received this arc in exchange for an honest review***
This book is about two desperately messed up people who come together.
Grayson has just escaped an abusive relationship and moves home. She has a twin who is the complete opp...